


a foregone conclusion

by Sapphylicious



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 07:49:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphylicious/pseuds/Sapphylicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tetsuya knew how this would end when Daiki wheedled him into a tutoring session.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a foregone conclusion

**Author's Note:**

> [Based on this age-gap AU.](http://conpeitou.tumblr.com/post/43209844372/aokuro-age-gap-parody)

Tetsuya didn't think of himself as exceptionally smart, but he was far from stupid. He knew immediately how they would end up when Daiki wheedled him into a tutoring session, and if he was being perfectly honest with himself, he hadn't put up much resistance to the idea. Not nearly as much as he should have, at least enough to span 11 years, to make a token nod to that gap and not just furtively bridge over it with Daiki's brilliant smiles, his teasing, his laughter. The way every inch of him lit up when Tetsuya agreed with the modest caveat that it had been a while since he'd had anything to do with a high school curriculum, and his grades had only ever been average.

(He was resolute in not thinking about precisely how long ago that was, how many years stacked between now and then).

"That's still better than me!" Daiki said—boasted, even, his poor grades a victory as far as he was concerned, and if Tetsuya didn't know better he'd wonder if that was on purpose. But for better or worse, Daiki didn't have it in him to scheme, and he leered openly when he added that oh, by the way, his parents weren't going to be home that entire weekend, and he had kind of preemptively told them Tetsuya-sensei would be over to help him study so they didn't have to fear that he'd starve or die in a fire or try to get into seedy Roppongi clubs with Ryouta, and no need to hurry back home or anything.

…Maybe he was a little bit of a schemer after all.

It could be worse, Tetsuya rationalized, and tried not to be alarmed that his rationalization followed a 15-year-old's logic. It could be worse; it could be the seedy club instead.

#

In all fairness, he thought they could make it through an hour of actual studying before the inevitable. He'd known better than to bargain—

"A kiss for every math equation."

"No."

"I do better with positive reinforcement!"

"Aomine-kun, no."

—but the thing was that Daiki didn't need that kind of overture. Tetsuya was here, after all, and he'd known how this would end up—with Daiki's arm settling around his waist, the solid weight of him crowding Tetsuya's side, breath puffing against the hair at his temple.

"Aomine-kun," he said, schoolteacher strict, but Daiki wasn't a child anymore and truth be told the Teacher Tone hadn't worked very well on him back then, either. Tetsuya sighed, tried again: "Aomine-kun, you _need_ to study. If your grades don't improve that won't reflect well on me, you know." He didn't add, _and then we might not be able to meet like this_ , because Daiki didn't need that type of encouragement. He was doing just fine on his own, fingers warm where they sneaked under Tetsuya's shirt, just shy of ticklish on his skin.

"Later." The light press of a kiss dusted the corner of Tetsuya's eye. "I'll do well." Lips followed the curve of his cheek, rounded his jaw, and murmured against his mouth, "So will you reward me?"

"You'll have to earn that reward first." Which was the exact wrong thing to say judging by the shape of the grin in Daiki's kiss, dry and slightly chapped with winter before opening wet and hot with more enthusiasm than finesse. His eagerness had an unfortunate way of drawing Tetsuya into his pace, though, so even while part of him clamored to _stop, wait, slow down, think about this first_ , he was still reaching up to pull at Daiki's face and adjust the angle, thumbs brushing over cheekbones and tongue swiping over a row of teeth.

Daiki tasted like the salty snack chips perched on the table by his neglected textbook. He tasted like youthful abandon that shouldn't have affected Tetsuya the way it did, shivering with a push and pull of guilt and want. Daiki's mouth moved and melded with his, all heat and passion that could not be stopped once the momentum got going, but he could be guided, to an extent.

_This is called taking advantage_ , the reasonable part of Tetsuya admonished before it was promptly shut up. Tetsuya slid his hands back along Daiki's head, into the close crop of his hair, fingers curling to tug and twist at the short strands with just the right amount of force.

Daiki's growl passed between them, a vibration that had Tetsuya leaning up helplessly for more, closer, until he was pressed down to the floor under a large, lean frame. The weight of Daiki's body on top of his was becoming increasingly familiar, as was every other casual touch. It had always been that way, Tetsuya recalled, but instead of a child clinging to his hand or jumping on his back it was now Daiki ruffling his hair, palming the nape of his neck, or drawing him into the curve of a lanky arm. They were following a precedent established long ago, only escalated.

He'd allowed it to escalate this far, with the hem of his shirt being rucked up, the planes of his abdomen being mapped out. Lips found his throat, licking over the skin before sucking a mark there that Tetsuya should have protested. He didn't own any high-necked shirts. But then the fingertips circling his navel dipped lower, under the waistband of his pants and underwear, and he clapped a hand over his mouth to breathe heavily into his palm when Daiki massaged his cock to full hardness.

"Hey, now." Teeth bit the lobe of his ear, Daiki's voice pitched low and hungry. "No one's home. Let me hear you."

Tetsuya made a strangled sound that was part arousal, and part dismay at the fact he was entangled here in Daiki's room like a guilty teenager. The actual teenager in this situation was a fast learner when he put his mind to it, and the teacher part of Tetsuya lamented Daiki's disinclination to apply himself to more useful things.

The other part, though, the part of him that clutched at the building muscle of Daiki's shoulders and lifted his hips to help with the shucking off of clothes—that part didn't mind the attentive way Daiki touched him, reviewing what he liked and where he liked it, how fast, how hard. He was stroked with a sure grip, and Daiki's face was flushed, watching him, calling to him roughly, "Tetsu…"

"Daiki-ku— _uhn_." He arched and panted when the pad of Daiki's thumb rolled over his tip, smearing the wetness leaking there.

"Shit, Tetsu, you look really good. You—yeah, that's it. Like that?"

"Daiki-kun, you talk too much." He reached, trembling, to grab a fistful of Daiki's sweater and reel him back down until the dark blue of his eyes was clearly visible, black pupils nearly eclipsing them. 

"But you love it, _sensei_."

Tetsuya shuddered, denial dying a lust-choked death. He kissed Daiki silent, the cocky slant of his mouth responding eagerly to the push of Tetsuya's tongue, ensuring no more embarrassing truths at least for the moment. Not the spoken kind, anyway. The buck of his hips into Daiki's hand was its own truth.

(The kick of his heart, so full and sweetly aching with every warm, rush-of-blood beat, was another.)

His gasps mixed and mingled with Daiki's breath in the spaces where they fumbled to fit together, growing ever more sloppy. Daiki's strokes became fast and erratic. He was growling again, and Tetsuya could feel the rumble of it when he slid a hand around the brown expanse of Daiki's throat, curling fingers over the back of his neck to hang on and ride out the cresting waves of pleasure washing over his body.

Daiki spoke again, a half-mumbled wet sound lost somewhere between the tangle of lips and tongue, probably something stupid ("come for me, Tetsu") or maybe sentimental ("I love you"). Maybe both ("I love you so fucking much"). Either way, Tetsuya burned at the thought.

A hurried, accidental twist of Daiki's wrist squeezed him _just right_ , and then he was breaking, coming apart messy and undignified into a large hand, spilling over his own belly. Every inch of him felt too hot and high to care. He might have said something, he couldn't even begin to guess what, a name or a secret or not a secret at all. He was in pieces, held together only by trembling aftershocks. Daiki buried his face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling the flutter of his pulse, and with his mouth claimed another spot on Tetsuya's sweat-slicked skin. All Tetsuya did was let his head tip to the side, allowing better access.

Teeth grazed him, and Daiki's breath came in heavy, needy drags. "Tetsu," he groaned, grinding atop the juncture of thigh and hip. He was still clothed, but the flushed, rumpled sight of him looked nearly as debauched as Tetsuya felt. "Tetsu, can I?"

"Can you what?" He hooked fingers into the waist of Daiki's pants, popping the button and lowering the zip. The hard ridge of him bulged through the open flap.

"I wanna fuck you."

Still in a languid, post-orgasmic haze, and so far past the point of propriety that his guilty conscience was nowhere to be found, Tetsuya hummed and cupped Daiki's length, making him shake above him. Rubbing thoughtfully, he said after a pause, "I don't think you'll last."

"What—hey!"

Tetsuya kissed the corner of his frown, and couldn't help but add, "At least this time you didn't come in your pants."

"That happened _once_ …"

Laughing softly now, he pushed himself up. Daiki almost refused to budge, affronted teenaged male all over, but Tetsuya coaxed him with suckling kisses and steady pulls on his cock until he surrendered and rolled onto his back, making sure to drag Tetsuya with him.

"Don't worry." He settled between Daiki's long legs and licked down the line of his bared throat. "I'll take care of you."

"You better," Daiki breathed out, the words thick with want.

Tetsuya paused to affectionately rub his cheek over the soft texture of Daiki's sweater, catching the faintest thud of his heartbeat through layers of fabric. A hand came up to pet through his hair, gentle at first, before giving in to an impatient push. Daiki never said it in so many words, but his body was capable of begging in its own language, and Tetsuya had a terrible habit of indulging him.

He hunched down over Daiki's waiting cock, the color of it dark with blood and pulsing hot when he wrapped his fingers around the base. The flat of his tongue followed the vein up the underside, over the head, and lapped the bitter moisture gathered at the slit. He was never going to love that taste, didn't get the appeal of AV stars moaning "delicious~" during the act—

("You're missing the point, Tetsu," Daiki would say, and that only confused him more, between the porn collection with soft, big-breasted girls stashed under Daiki's bed, and the things he wanted to do with Tetsuya's male, compact frame, his flat chest, his hard cock, just where was the point in all that?)

—but he didn't hate it, either. He didn't really mind the musky flavor coating the inside of his mouth when he stretched his lips around the tip and sucked, and he rather liked the way the muscles in Daiki's thighs clenched, his helpless string of curses that spilled into the air. Another time, another place, Tetsuya might have rebuked him for his language, but at the moment he wasn't one to talk about filthy mouths.

He wasn't a very good adult. He tried, but it always seemed to come back to some variant of this: half-naked in Daiki's bedroom with semen drying on his stomach, tonguing Daiki's flesh, forgetting how abjectly wrong it was to blow a high schooler or be fucked by one or love him so much that some days it was all Tetsuya could do to try and keep his pounding heart contained inside his bruised chest.

As he thought, Daiki didn't last long. All it took was Tetsuya casting his glance up to meet Daiki's eyes, which immediately screwed shut as he bit out a tight and emphatic, " _fuck!_ " Tetsuya didn't need any more warning than that. Daiki pulled on the back of his head and shoved in deep when he came. Undaunted, even moaning around the fullness, Tetsuya wrung everything out of him, hot and seeping from the wet corners of his mouth. The sound that he dragged out from Daiki's throat was raw and almost anguished.

Swallowing thickly, Tetsuya let Daiki slip free and rested his cheek upon a come-stained leg to catch his breath. They were both a mess, sticky and panting together on the floor, and though his sex-drowsed haze Tetsuya was utterly unsurprised that they'd ended up this way. It had been inevitable from the start, even before Daiki proposed his thinly-veiled studying excuse.

Maybe it had been set in stone the moment they first tumbled into bed together, the start of something that couldn't be stopped once in motion. Or before that, when Daiki cornered him for a kiss with all his clumsy, unskilled, stubborn youth. Or it could have been their accidental meeting after so many years, dawning in the spark of recognition when Tetsuya laid eyes upon the boy, no longer a child, tall and already broad-shouldered in his high school uniform, and Tetsuya's first thought had been how handsome Daiki was growing up. That was telling in retrospect. He'd tried to believe it was an older brother's affection, but that went to pieces with every drape of Daiki's arm enfolding him close, every slip of his name from Daiki's demanding mouth, until they'd wound up here like this.

Tetsuya shifted his head against the hand making lazy passes through his hair. Daiki was forever finding ways to touch him, little ways that stopped just short of cuddling only because his standoffish teenage pride wouldn't allow it. Making him cave was easy, though. Tetsuya drew up alongside his body and Daiki's arms fell around him automatically, tightening in a content hug as his face lifted to seek Tetsuya's for an unhurried kiss.

Everything was downhill from here, rolling on to an unavoidable conclusion. At some point they'd clean up and Tetsuya would insist on getting some real studying done. Momentarily placated, Daiki would listen. They'd make it through a whole subject before Daiki got distracted again, probably by food. He was a creature of very basic, predictable needs. Between the two of them they'd find a way to put together an edible meal. Afterwards, Tetsuya would try, but likely fail, to convince Daiki to be productive for the evening, and instead they'd watch TV or a movie or Tetsuya would read a book while Daiki muttered ineffective threats at a handheld game.

He'd let Daiki fuck him, but not on the couch where Daiki's parents would be sitting the very next day. In bed, pressed into Daiki's sheets that smelled of him, Tetsuya would spread his legs and fold around him, or under him, putting himself in the care of Daiki's big hands and bigger heart, foolishly young and loving as it was. 

They'd fall into an exhausted, satisfied slumber, and the next day when he was too sleep-addled to think about the return of Daiki's parents and everything that entailed, Tetsuya would simply turn in Daiki's arms and wake him up slowly like any other pair of lovers on a Sunday morning. Maybe he'd mark Daiki's toned skin so they had matching sets, insinuating a hand down between their bodies to get them both off and enjoy the sight of Daiki lying indolent beneath him.

There was never any question how this would all end, whether it was tomorrow, or a week later, or years down the road. It wasn't that Tetsuya had his future mapped out on a set timetable, but rather, he simply could no longer picture a future without Daiki in it. Inevitably made a bridge, more than solid enough to span a mere 11-year gap, and when all was said and done Tetsuya crossed it without hesitation, knowing what was on the other side and wanting it more than anything.

#

(Daiki, for the record, knew exactly when this all started: it hadn't been as cheesy as love at first sight, because honestly Tetsuya had startled the shit out of him when they first met, and it had taken him a while to realize his own feelings—but that last day before Tetsuya left, when Daiki blurted out his proposal, that was when their fate had been set as surely as if Daiki had tied the red thread to Tetsuya's pinky himself. He meant to finish things the way he started them, so in that regard Tetsuya had never stood a chance from the very beginning.) 


End file.
